Days in the Life of Elizabeth 'Molly' Moran
by TheOldVillianWriter
Summary: Molly's past is not what many believe. There are things that she has kept secret from the closest people. She meets somebody and the past comes flooding back. Something that could make her or brake her to a thousand pieces.


_Day One._

She was sitting in the park drawing while she was on her break when she met him. A common thing for her since she found the tree in the park. A shadow crossed over her notebook. Her heart started beating. There was nobody around. She plucked up the courage to look up at him.

"Hello Molly." He said, his Irish accent giving a slight twist to her alias. Her eyes trailed up to the neat looking man. Briefly gazing into the dark abyss in his eyes.

"Hi, can I help you?" She asked cautiously

"I've seen you quite a lot here, I was curious to see why. Not many people come here."

"That's why I like it and that's not really why your here." She smiled. She didn't know why but that was certainly not the reason.

"So what's in that little notebook of yours? Secrets?" His eyebrows rose and he smiles mischievously.

"No, not always," She stood up. She was intrigued by him but she wasn't stupid enough not to run when she needed too.

"Then what?" He shrugged and stepped a bit closer. Trying to analyse her.

"Just things," She stepped away hesitantly.

"Well if you won't tell me..." His hand darted forward snatching the notebook from her hands.

He held the notebook over his head and above her reach and turned to a random page. Glancing at the drawings.

"Give it back, they're rubbish. You wouldn't want to see them." She reached for them again before crossing her arms over her chest.

He gazed at the different portraits, recognising a lot of them. "Interesting."

"You're too friendly for a stranger."

"You're good."

"You're a liar then." She huffed. "Give it back."

"No, I honestly think they are."

"Right, you can think that. Can you just give me it back?"

He handed the notebook back and grinned. She was challenge for him, he couldn't figure anything about her. He didn't have control. He couldn't see how he could control her. He kind of liked it a little. "Promise you'll meet me here tomorrow though? I want to see more. I might have a job for you."

"We'll see, I like my job now. What's your name?" She said carefully.

He leaned down and kissed her cheek, sending blood rushing to them. With that he winked and started to walk off. "Moriarty."

_Day Two._

"Hello again, Miss Molly." He smiled as she looked up.

"Back again, Mr Moriarty." She gave him a quick soft smile.

"The office is boring and I wanted to see you."

"I'm more interesting that you're job? I hardly doubt that. I only met you yesterday." Going back to her drawings.

He gently sat back on the tree and looked at the sketch that she was doing. "You really are. My job isn't really that interesting to me anymore..."

"What do you do then? Those Westwood suits don't pay for themselves." Molly asked him as he flicked through the latest pages. She was very interested how he managed to obtain high end clothing.

"Consultant, a specialist." He didn't want to lie to her but she didn't need to know the whole truth either. Not yet.

"In what field?"

"I can't tell you. It might scare you off anyway."

"Probably not as much as my job."

He looked at her lab coat. He was too distracted to observe her properly. "You're a Doctor, helping people isn't frightening."

"A Doctor that specialises in the dead as well as the living. I'm a pathologist."

His ears pricked up at her sentence. "So you can sew people up and find out how people died. Interesting."

"Essentially, yes. How could that be interesting to you?"

_Day Seven._

"Coffee?" Jim smiled as hovered the cup over her.

"Erm, Thanks." She smiled a little back at him. Slightly worried from taking a coffee from a person she had known for about a total of three hours over seven days.

"I haven't drugged it. I remember you telling me your favourite yesterday."

"I didn't tell you." She looked at him rather nervously, about to slide away gently from him. He pointed at the empty cup beside her and laughed.

Day Fourteen.

Jim was getting used to the little breaks he was having with Molly. It was bordering on pleasant for him to get out of the office form time to time. He had brought them some coffee, her favourite from the local café.

"Molly?" He was absentmindedly looking through the book.

"Yes Jim?"

He had picked out a face in particular, at the beginning of the book. "Who is this?"

"That's my brother, he died in Afghanistan in 2002." She went a little sad. "I start off all my notebooks with a drawing of him."

He put a hand on her arm. "I'm sorry." That was the first time he had ever consoled somebody. He kept his anger in long enough so she couldn't see. Why didn't he tell Jim about her.

"It's okay, it was a long time ago now."

He was furious when he got into his office and hour and a half afterwards. His right hand man sitting on the floor of his office, cleaning his guns. Parts and oil spread everywhere. It pushed Jim over the edge.

For a surprisingly lean man, he had a lot of power. He pushed Sebastian to the wall by his throat. "You are a bloody idiot. Why the hell I don't slit your throat right now is beyond me."

"Boss?" Moran started to squirm a little. "What have I done now?" He was used to the odd punch from his angry boss every now and again but this was slightly different.

"Forgetting to mention that you have a sister. Making her think that you were killed on duty. Lying to her to work for me."

"I don't know what your talking about boss." He lied through his teeth while he grasped for breath.

"You know what happens to people who lie to me Sebastian!" He shouted, pulling his phone out and showing a picture he took of her just after he walked away that day. He was worried now, Jim never called him by his name unless he messed up pretty bad.

Sebastian looked at the ground. "I had to protect her. She's completely innocent in this."

"For god's sake Tiger. I could have looked out for her."

"I'm sorry Boss."

"You need to go and see her. Now." Jim shouted at him, for some unknown reason he was becoming protective of her.

"No I can't. I don't know how she will react.

"She's a Doctor and a good woman. At most she might hit you."

"She's a Moran. She's mastered every weapon you could think of. She could kill me with one hit!" He ran his hand through his hair, murmuring under his breath. "I told you there were only few better than me and she's one of them."

Jim gave him an ultimatum before storming off. "You tell her or I will."

_Day Fifteen._

She was sitting under the tree in the afternoon. Sat up to meet him and she almost dropped her notebook when she saw his anger. He was still seething from last night.

"Jim, is everything alright? She asked.

His dark eyes looked at her. She could practically feel the malice radiating from him.

"Jim?"

"People are idiots," He whimpered as he sat down. "What's the point of going if the world is just stupid?" He leaned against the tree with his arms crossed.

"Sometimes people are." She said quietly.

He was silent. Sometimes that was more terrifying than when he was speaking. He seemed to be analyzing her for a second. He stood up and had the tips of his shoes pressing against hers.

"Why is I have to deal with them?" He asked quietly.

"Everyone has to deal with them." She said and looked away from him.

His hand cupped her cheek and directed her face towards him, so he could look into her eyes. They both felt their heart pounding in their chests. Another first for the Consulting Criminal.

"I'd rather deal with it when you're around." She looked straight into his black, inky eyes. His eyes darted from her hazel eyes to her lips and back again.

Then there was that familiar awkward cough that Jim hated. Sebastian was behind him.

"I need to speak to Dr Hooper privately please, as a matter of urgency." He thinks for a second. "Hospital business."

Tears gathered in her eyes as she heard the voice that she thought she would never hear again. She looked past Jim to see the tall, muscular man. Her eyes glided up the military styled clothes to see the image of her father, just standing there with regretful mahogany eyes. Scars on his neck and face. The aquiline nose. The scruffy blonde hair cut.

"I must be going mad. You're dead. I saw your coffin, I saw you dea-" She broke into tears, leaning her head on Jim's shoulder for a second before trying to compose herself. "You utter-"

"Izzie, please, let me explain."


End file.
